Itsy Bitsy Marauders
by Luinramwen
Summary: Know why the Marauders were such good friends? It had something to do with a mini-mischief escapade at St. Mungo's when they were still toddlers. Oh dear. Trouble with a capital T ensues...
1. Bite of Wolf, Flippers of Seal

A/N - All right, all together now - SQUEE! ^_^ I love the Marauders in every form, but as you can probably tell by the title, this fic is about them when they were toddlers. Squee!

Ok, ok, I'll control my 'squeeing' urges. I'm not sure when or why this particular idea struck me, but I'm rather glad it did. Now I get lotsa CUTE mental pictures of our favourite troublemakers as three-year-olds!

Warning: If you're extremely tenderhearted, please do not read this, as the Marauders manage to land themselves in St. Mungo's on the same night by pure coincidence. As you can tell by the title of this chapter, Remus gets bitten, and later on I get slightly cruel to little Peter and Sirius. *slaps self* Bad author! Bad!

Disclaimer - Hey JK - If you're reading this - can I have the mini-Marauders? Pretty please?

*~*~*Bite of Wolf and Flippers of Seal*~*~*

Anita hurried around the house, locking windows. Three-year-old Remus toddled after her, thumb in his mouth, serious large grey eyes following her every move.

She glanced out the still-open window in front of her. Her husband was outside, closing the shutters.

"Hurry, Martin!" Anita called, leaning out over the sill. She pointed to the horizon. "The moon'll be rising soon."

He waved his acknowledgement and she shut the window, latching it firmly.

"Mama? Wha's wong?" Remus asked worriedly around his thumb. Even so young, he could sense the tension in the air. Something was not quite right.

Anita scooped her small son up and ruffled his brown hair affectionately. "Nothing for you to worry about, lovey," she reassured.

Martin came in, slamming the door behind him and locking it. "Got them all?"

"Yes. I'm getting so sick of this all, though. Having to cower behind locked doors and windows every full moon, fearing that every shadow might be It."

He shrugged hopelessly. "I know. And being sleepless every night listening to make sure Remus doesn't sleepwalk and open the doors. I hope they catch it soon - and yet I don't. You know what they do to werewolves. It's wrong. Wrong that someone otherwise innocent gets persecuted for something beyond their control."

Remus squirmed out of his mother's grasp and toddled over to hug his dad's legs. 

"Heya there, Remmie," Martin grinned, bending down and tickling the little boy. Remus shrieked with laughter. He loved that. 

Laughing, Anita's fears were temporarily laid aside as she watched her husband chase their giggling son out of the room.

*~*~*

Late that night, as Anita lay restless in bed, the full moon shining on her face, she was startled by a terrible scream and a growl from the street. Remus' scream.

Martin sat bolt upright and reached for his wand. "What the -?"

"He's outside!" Anita shot out of bed, snatching up her own wand.

"How?"

"Merlin help me -" she said in horror. "I forgot to lock the back door!"

*~*~*

In the glow of the streetlight, a giant, wolflike creature with glowing red eyes and a slavering jaw set with long fangs stood alert and with raised hackles on the sidewalk.

Remus' small, limp body lay between its front claws.

Anita and Martin shot out of their backyard for the street where the thing stood, their only thoughts for their son's safety.

"STUPEFY!" screamed his parents as they reached the sidewalk. But already the werewolf was moving, its muscles rippling as it leapt for the elder Lupins.

Anita conjured up a silver shield, just in time. The werewolf struck it and ricocheted off. It streaked off into the night, howling in agony.

Lights flicked on all up and down the street as their neighbours became aware of the commotion outside.

The Lupins did not notice this, as they knelt beside Remus' huddled form.

"Is he -" Anita began, seeing a trickle of blood. She couldn't bring herself to voice her dread. "Did it -"

Martin shook his head. "He's alive. But he's been bitten." His body slumped heavily. "Remus -"

Anita let out a soft, horrified cry.

*~*~*

"I'm not going to bed," announced James firmly. "I'm not tired."

"It's ten o'clock already," Mara Potter pleaded.

"I'll read you a story," wheedled Ted.

James scowled as he folded his chubby arms across his chest and pouted. "No."

"I'll read some of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle..."

The little boy lost some of his ferocious scowl. "Reawy?"

"Yes, really."

"Wiw you read me _three_ stories if I go to bed now?" asked James hopefully. He loved stories.

"Will you settle for two?" Mara said. "It's getting late."

James considered this thoughtfully for a moment. "OK!" he beamed. Ted followed the little boy to his bedroom as James ran ahead and began bouncing enthusiastically on his bed.

*~*~*

All had been peaceful for about an hour after the lights in James' room had gone out, when -

BANG!

Both Potters jumped, automatically reaching for their wands. Ted, however, swore loudly.

"It's gone!"

"Your wand?"

"Yes, my wand! James must have pocketed it when I read to him! Little snitch," growled Ted.

They hurried down the hallway in time to see James skipping out of him room, beaming in delight. "Mummy! Daddy! Wook at me! Innit coow?"

Mara yelled in shock. "He's got _flippers_!"

And indeed he had. In place of arms, a large pair of grey seal flippers flapped against James' sides.

"Ark, ark! I'm a seaw!" James said, clapping his flippers together.

"Jamie, how many times must we tell you - don't ever play with Daddy's wand!" Mara scolded.

"Awww..."

"You've done it now," Ted groaned. He turned to his wife. "I guess we have to take him to St. Mungo's. I've no clue how to get rid of those - those flippers -" He waved his hand helplessly.

*


	2. Up on The Rooftop, and The Dangers of Te...

A/N - This should be rather entertaining. If you'll notice, I've given each of the Marauders a separate speech impediment. Remus cannot pronounce his 'r's. James cannot get his 's's. Sirius and Peter - well, you'll see about them right off. Enjoy!

Oh yes, and the detail-conscientious readers will note that Sirius is sort of friends with Bellatrix in this chapter. I would have preferred it otherwise, but I figure even murdering, pure evil Death Eaters might have had their innocent, likeable moments as children, and so as much as I would have liked Sirius to steal his mother's wand and try to hex her, it couldn't be done. Sorry.

Disclaimer - Please, please, please, pleeeeaaase may I have the mini-Marauders? Please? I'll take good care of them - I'll keep a good eye on them - I'm a good baby-sitter, I can deal with them - please JK? Lemme keep 'em? *sad puppy-dog eyes*

*~*~*Up On The Rooftop, And The Dangers of Teacups*~*~*

Lester stared at his small nephew. The round-faced boy stared back, expressionless.

"You are the Squibbiest excuse for a wizard kid I've ever seen," he told Peter. "You don't play with wands. You don't pay any attention to Quidditch, and you never play with that toy broom I got you. You tried to _pluck_ the owl. You're three, for Merlin's sake! And you don't even talk!"

Peter squeaked, then continued banging to pot lids together and singing wordlessly along with the annoying rhythm.

"Yeah, kid. 'Squeak' is right. Thank Merlin your parents are coming home soon. I couldn't stand another hour of baby-sitting you." A thought occurred to Lester as Peter pulled another pot out of the drawer and placed it upside down on his head. "D'you even have any magic at all, Petey? That would crush your mother if you didn't."

Peter squeaked again.

"Ever man and woman in this family has turn out to be a witch or wizard. If you were the one exception, I think your mother'd throw herself off the roof." 

Suddenly a wicked grin coursed across Lester's face. "Of course. What better way? What better way to test if you really _do_ have magic?" Thus decided, Lester scooped up Peter and pulled the pot off his head. "C'mon, kid," he said, "let's go find a ladder."

*~*~*

Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew were walking home from their friend's house down the street, talking happily about the wonderful time they'd had.

Mrs. Pettigrew was the first to spot the figure silouetted against the moon on the roof.

"What's Lester doing up there?" she wondered.

Mr. Pettigrew squinted. "I don't know. It looks like he's got Peter up there too. He's swinging something back and forth, gaining momentum -"

He was cut off by his wife. "NO LESTER! YOU TWISTED SADISTIC MORON!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, breaking into a sprint. "DON'T THROW THE BABY!..."

*~*~*

The giant squashy cushion appeared out of midair a split-second too late, and floated down on top of Peter, instead of underneath.

"Oops," muttered Lester.

The next thing he knew, he was being dragged across the roof by his ears. His extremely irate sister kept up a vicious stream of invective the entire time.

"Ow! Ow! Owww!"

"I ought to throw _you_ off the roof, you child-murdering, pathetic excuse for a human being!" Mrs. Pettigrew growled.

"Peter's still alive!" called Mr. Pettigrew from the sideyard. "He's still squeaking!"

"Ow! I swear, Joan, I was only testing - ow! to see if he had any magic in him! OW!"

"There were other ways!" she shrieked in disgust, twisting harder.

"OWWW! Yes, but I proved he does, didn't I? _I_ didn't make that cushion appear."

Mrs. Pettigrew stopped twisting her brother's ear. "Good. He has magic. That means they'll at least accept him at St. Mungo's. Because I'd have hated to be you explaining to the Muggle doctors just exactly why you were tossing your nephew off the roof." She glared daggers at him.

Lester gulped.

*~*~*

"I'm bored," sighed Sirius, wriggling in his chair as he glared at his elder cousins, Bellatrix, six, and Andromeda, eight.

Andromeda shushed him. "Be quiet, we're gonna try to eavesdrop on the adults."

"Do we have to? I'd rather thleep," he whined.

Bellatrix's eyes gleamed. "I want to drop a Dungbomb over the railing just outside the parlour."

"Yeth, let'th!" agreed Sirius, grinning happily, his complaints forgotten. "I wanna drop it thith time."

"Who said _you_ were included, midget?" Bellatrix said imperiously. "You're too little."

Sirius' lower lip trembled and his eyes filled with tears.

"Never mind her," Andromeda said comfortingly. "Of course you're included, Siri."

"It'th _Thiriuth_," he insisted. "Not Thiri." He was disgusted.

"Right, Siri," she said absent-mindedly. She was thinking. Andromeda glanced at Bellatrix, who was poking at something on a shelf in the alcove. "The only thing is, I don't think we have any Dungbombs left."

"Damn!"

"Bella, you know you're not supposed to swear, especially in front of the baby. Aunty said so." Actually, her aunt had said no such thing, but Bellatrix wasn't to know that. She was terrified of Mrs. Black.

"I'm not a baby!" Sirius was outraged.

"Sorry."

"What about the house elf?" Bellatrix persisted. "Can we drop _him_ -"

"That'th cruel!"

"So? It'd be funny."

"No, sis. We'll just eavesdrop this time."

The two girls crouched as far down the stairs as they could without being seen from the parlour. Sirius, not understanding a great deal of the talk his cousins were so avidly listening to, wandered off down the hallway, poking at things on the shelves.

*~*~*

"_Yow_!" came Sirius' cry.

"Aunty!" called Andromeda in the surprised silence that followed. "Sirius's been bitten by that silver teacup of yours!" There was a pause, then she added, disgusted, "His hand's turning all green, and bubbly!"

"It'th cool!" protested Sirius.

"I told you that thing would cause trouble," Mr. Black groaned. "I reckon it's got poison."

"Looks like he's for the hospital," Mrs. Black sighed, rising to her feet. "Silly kid, touching things he knows he shouldn't."

*


	3. Can I Pleathe Die? Or, At Leatht Thtay O...

A/N - Sorry I didn't respond to my reviews last chapter. Here they are now.

SiriusAboutMarauders: Of course I've got toddler Sirius in this fic, I'd have to be mad to call this a Marauders fic and NOT have him in it! Besides, can't you just picture him as a 3-year-old? ^_^

Erenriel: No you may **_*NOT*_** have toddler Remus. -_- You have all the versions of Remus you could ever need already. Chibi-Remus? The blue duotang? Your own fanfictions? All those pics you printed off of Elfwood? Have mercy and let me keep him. My version. My Remmy. OK?

AbigailNicole: Thank you very much for the great long review. With advice! I know my descriptions are my weakest point, and I do try, but sometimes I forget. Just remind me if I start to forget again. And I'm not totally sure if my mini-Marauders ARE too articulate for 3-year-olds. I've babysat a kid about that age before and OK, it's cutting it close - but maybe, just maybe, the three talking Marauders are like that because they're so clever when they're older. Generally that's the way it is.

Note - I figure Mrs. Black was more indifferent to Sirius when he was small, rather than outright hating him like she did when he was older.

So, this is the chapter in which the meetings begin. Enjoy! This first part is pure sadness. Poor little Remus - I just wanna give him a big hug! /o,_o\

Disclaimer - I swear on all five HP books that I will take good care of the mini-Marauders, JK. Please let me keep them! Please! I solemnly swear it...

*~*~*Can I Pleathe Die? Or At Leatht, Thtay Overnight?*~*~*

"Is there nothing you can do?" asked Anita, anguished.

The Healer shook his head. "Sorry, Mrs. Lupin. Once bitten, there's nothing we can do to stop the process of the lycanthropy. We've been researching cures for centuries here, but -" he shrugged, helplessly - "young Remus'll just have to learn to cope."

Remus was sitting up in the hospital bed, pale and wide-eyed. The green sheets made him look slightly green as well. For all Anita knew, he might really have been. Remus had a tendency to worry a lot. "Am I sick?" he asked tremulously. "Weally sick?"

"No, Remus," Martin said gently. "You're not sick...you've just got some - magic, in you, that... that'll turn you into a wolf every full moon," he tried to explain. "A werewolf."

"Like that big thing that bit me?" he asked fearfully.

Anita nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so."

"It was scawy!" he whimpered. "Am I gonna be like that?"

"Yes..." Martin affirmed heavily.

Remus started to cry. "I don' wanna be a wewewolf! I don' wanna be a big scawy monstew! I don' wanna!"

"I know, sweetie, I know...we don't want you to be one either," Anita said, hugging him close. "But you are."

Slowly his sobs quieted. "Will I always be one?" he asked quietly, still sounding tearful.

"Yes, Remmy...but you'll learn to cope, you can live with it...you can't let it bother you too much...and we'll always be there for you..."

"But I don' wanna!" yelled Remus.

Just then the door to the ward opened and a pale-faced little boy with a shock of black hair was led in by his stern-faced mother. Despite looking a little woozy, he grinned and waved at Remus with a wounded hand that had turned purple and started bubbling. "Hi!"

Still sniffling, Remus waved back, uncertainly.

The boy's mother began explaining what had happened to the Healer in a low voice. She barely glanced at her son, and looked disdainfully upon the Lupins before turning her back on them. Her proud, haughty demeanor suggested that despite the situation she was not about to lower herself to showing affection in public to her wounded son as the Lupins were. Anita, after studying her awhile, was not sure this woman even knew what 'affection' meant. 

The others caught bits and pieces of their conversation. "....Friend's teacup...yes...never suspected...probably poisoned...keep him...night, just to be sure..."

The boy, meanwhile, wandered closer. "Who're you?"

"Wemus," said Remus, wiping his eyes.

"I'm Thiriuth. Did you get bited too?"

Remus nodded, cautiously. He instinctively liked the boy's slightly mischievous and friendly grin, but remained wary.

"I got bited. By a thilver teacup. Look what it did to my hand! Innit cool?"

Remus stared, fascinated and sufficiently distracted from his troubles. "Wowie." The wound was still bubbling, and had begun darkening from purple to nearly black.

"Well, Mrs. Black," said the Healer, "your boy will probably have to stay one night, just to make sure we get all that stuff out of his system. Potions too, you know, at odd hours, though one should suffice as long as he doesn't react badly."

"Will I die?" Sirius asked hopefully. Being so young, he wasn't totally sure what death was, but he was very interested in finding out nonetheless.

"No, kiddo," the Healer said, stifling a smile. "I'm afraid not."

"Drat!" He looked sulky, pouted, and then suddenly his face brightened. "Ith Remuth thtaying too?"

"Yep. He'll have to," explained the Healer, addressing the next sentence to his parents. "We've got to keep an eye on him. Sometimes people react badly to - you know..."

Anita nodded, then faced her son. "You'll be all right here?" Anita asked in concern. "Mum and Dad can't stay here with you. We'll be back in the morning though. Will you be OK?"

Remus looked worried for a split-second. Then he looked at Sirius and grinned. "OK."

As Martin held the door of the ward open for the two women to exit, another small boy with unruly black hair skipped past, singing, "I'm a seaw, I'm a seaw, I'm a swimmy wittwe seaw -" He clapped a large grey pair of flippers in time with his singing.

"Hi!" called Sirius, waving.

The boy doubled back and peeked in. "Hewo! I got fwippers!" He was grinning as though Christmas had come early, instead of being on the receiving end of a backfired spell.

"Neat-o! I got bited," Sirius informed him, holding up his hand.

"Wowie! What's your name?"

"Thiriuth," Sirius told him. "And thith ith my friend Remuth. He got bited too."

"I'm James -" he began before his mother, looking weary and rumpled, caught hold of him.

"Come on, Jamie, we don't want to keep the Healer waiting -"

"Bye!" yelled James as he was towed away.

"Bye Jameth!" called Sirius.

"Bye," echoed Remus.

They could hear him start singing again in the distance. "I'm a seaw, seaw, seaw -"

*~*~*

"I'm bowed," complained Remus, heaving a big little-boy sigh and flopping onto his stomach on the bed.

The Healer watching over the two sighed as well. "Well, what d'you want to do? Play? A game? Sleep, maybe?" The Healer desperately wanted to sleep himself. He'd been up since six that morning after a fairly late night before, and he'd stayed past the end of his shift when the two boys had been placed in his charge. He rubbed his eyes, and tried desperately to stay awake.

"Exthplore," Sirius said promptly.

"Aw, come on, can't you think of something else?"

"No."

"No games? Nothing?"

"No. Wanna exthplore," the small boy said stubbornly.

The Healer sighed. Why would they not sleep, like any other reasonable creature would at this hour? Why? He decided, privately, that here was a very good reason never to have kids. "But since you can't explore -"

"Why?" asked Remus.

"Because you'll disturb the other patients."

"Why?" Remus persisted.

"Because it's very late and people are sleeping. Like you two should be."

"Why?" Sirius chimed in as well.

"Because they're sick, tired people."

"Why?"

The Healer pulled at his hair and swore.

"You sayed a bad wowd," Remus informed him primly, jumping off the bed and shaking his finger sternly at the Healer. "That's not vewy nice. You shouldn'ta sayed it."

"My couthin thayth that all the time. And I'm thirthty," Sirius announced, changing the subject as small children are wont to.

"Me too," decided Remus.

"Me three," said the Healer. "How 'bout pumpkin juice all around?"

"Yeth pleathe!"

An idea had occurred to the Healer. If the boys would not sleep, perhaps he could _make_ them sleep. He went to the cupboards and brought out three glasses, a jug of pumpkin juice, and a flask of Sleeping Potion.

He poured three glasses of juice and set them on the bedside table. He unstoppered the flask of Sleeping Potion and was about to add it to two glasses when Sirius said, "Can I have a thtraw, pleathe?"

Sighing, the Healer went back to the cupboards and began rummaging through them.

Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus, in an attempt to be helpful, hefted the flask and proceeded to dump some of the Sleeping Potion into one glass. The Healer slammed the cupboard doors, and they dropped it back to the table, startled, snatched up their own untainted glasses, and began gulping down the juice with alacrity.

"We don't have any straws," the Healer said, turning back.

"All done now," Remus announced, holding up his empty glass.

The Healer sighed again (_Kids_, he thought grimly), then lifted his own glass. Two large pairs of innocent eyes followed his movements as he drained his juice.

Then he keeled over on the spot, crumpled to the floor, and began snoring.

"Uh-oh. We killed him!" Sirius was horrified.

"Nuh-uh," disagreed Remus. "Dead people don' snowe."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause. They just don'."

"Oh." Sirius brightened. "Now we can exthplore!"

"And find James?"

"Yeth. We'll find Jameth." And thus decided, the two toddled off out of the ward.

*


End file.
